Cracked Memories
by Runt the Brave
Summary: Memories are a finicky things. Sometimes, the most important things are forgotten. And yet, always, there is a way to remember them. Follow River Song as she remembers, as she works, deals, and helps bring the Doctor back. Big Band SPOILERS!


**Disclaimer: If Doctor Who was mine, then, well, the fez would have survived.**

**Spoilers: This fic would not exist without Big Bang, so, yeah, Big Bang, lots of spoilers for the Big Bang. And small spoilers for bits and pieces of the rest of the new series.  
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**A/N: I'm fine with flames, they're better than just saying, 'oh I loved it', but if you do review, could you pleasepleaseplease tell me something that could be approved or that you didn't like? That is what helps me improve, so that any future stories can be better than this.  
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Cracked Memories

River still quivered with rage. No one normal would see her carefully masked dose of anger. She would never let through her facade of calm. The Dalek was dead. The Dalek that had mostly killed the Doctor. Mostly dead. River let herself snort in ironic amusement at the thought of one of the Doctor's favorite movies.

But now...

She had never described her life with the Doctor as cruel. Not until now. Dozens of times had she seen him risk his life to save the world, or the random person off the street, or the universe, or whatever forgotten planet he happened to be on.

But now, as she stood half inside the Pandorica, half outside the Pandorica, explaining to two 21st century humans what the Doctor planned to do, River had just one thought in her mind. Cruel. She went through what was expected of her in a daze. Her little computer kept her updated, so she didn't really have to pay attention.

Because life was cruel.

The rage was slowly being replaced with sadness and-she barely admitted it to herself-fear. She couldn't pay attention. As she helped position of the Doctor more comfortably in the seat of the Pandorica, she let her fingers linger a little longer on his cheek and their eyes met. In his eyes, she saw curiosity, admiration, curiosity, pain, curiosity, sadness, and a very, very large helping of sheer, unrestrained curiosity. And then he went and asked for Amy.

Life was cruel.

It took a few seconds for River to calm down and arrange her face in a mask of passable non-feeling. Or at least, numbed down feeling. If Amy or Rory saw what she was really thinking... With a nod, she turned from the Pandorica to where Amy and Rory embraced each other.

Thankfully, her mask stayed up over the entire conversation. Even when she explained how the cracks would close. And how the Doctor-HER Doctor-would be trapped on the other side. And that he would be forgotten. She mourned the think that she would ever forget him, but she knew it would be the case. Even at the end, her mask stayed up when Amy said, "What about you?"

River managed to wet her extraordinary dry throat enough to answer, "The thing is, he doesn't really know me yet. Now he never will." Looking into the eyes of the Doctor's two companions, she saw that Rory at least understood a little of what she was feeling. But only a little.

Experience had taught River not to open up to anyone, except her closest, dearest, most valued friend in the world. Him. She closed her eyes in an effort to keep the mask up. Amy slowly walked and stood in front of the Pandorica, saying goodbye to the Doctor. River's heart bled and she glanced at her computer, taking her time in reading the scales.

She was not trying to eavesdrop, but she could still hear the Doctor telling Amy that nothing was forgotten, not totally. Not entirely.

"Doctor, it's speeding up!" River cried, pouring energy and urgency into the words that she did not feel.

To herself, River vowed that she would never forget the Doctor. Her Doctor. If at all Time Lordly possible she would not forget the Doctor. She allowed herself a soft smile. To think that less than ten years ago, she would have used the term, humanly. But, as experience had taught her, nothing was impossible with the Doctor on your side.

Well. Mostly impossible. Highly, highly, highly improbable, but she knew he liked to argue, so she argued anyways. She wiped a tear away. Amy had backed away from the Pandorica as it closed on the Doctor's face.

Cruel. River thought again, as what she was sure would be her last sight of his face closed to her. And then the Pandorica started spinning. "Get out of the way!" River cried, knocking Amy to the floor and landed on top of her. Rory, the Nestine Duplicate, landed next to them.

All three of them turned and looked at the Pandorica. It spun faster and faster, and then crashed through the ceiling.

River's computer beeped. She looked down at it and her heart dropped. "It's from the Doctor."

"What does it say?" Amy asked.

Fingers shaking, River showed the display to the to Amy and Rory. "Geronimo," her voice broke.

As the Pandorica raced towards the explosion, and then everything was white.

She was lying on her side. Water lapped at her legs and she managed to sit up. Half in, half out of a lake. Her cloths were dark and heavy, like what she would wear on a paid robbery mission. Confusion clouded her head.

It was like she couldn't remember anything important. Her own name, what was her name? Someone had given it to her, just a few days ago, right? A new name that abandoned her own life, but then what was the name?

The woman stood. Her honey-blond curls clustered around her ears, but they were matted and dusty. What in skies name had just happened? A weight in her hand caused her to look down. Oh-kay. Never seen that kind of gun before. Bringing the gun to eye level, she searched it for a label or something. The gun was devoid of any markers.

So that meant it had either been specially created, or whoever owned it had any identification melded away. Expensive either way. Nothing that a woman with no memory could handle. Unless she was some really important person.

She closed for a second. Besides for her name, there was something else, something bigger, something that absolutely, most definitely, positively must be remembered. Here where the facts, she was standing, dripping wet, at the edge of a lake, with an unmarked gun in hand, completely at loss for who she was.

There was a name in her mind, and it belonged to someone that the woman knew and liked and probably loved, but the name was two long to identify, and would have been to difficult for her unpracticed mind to work out. So what did that name mean?

The woman looked around the shore line. A beach led to grass and the grass led to trees. A welcoming looking house was among the trees, clearly visible from the lake shore. Things to find out: who was she, where was she, and what in sanity's name was digging into her head?

She pulled the red bucket down from her head and stared at it. Eyes wide.

It was just a bucket-or it looked like just a bucket-with an indent in the top. Whatever. Was it supposed to be a hat that people wore to embarrass themselves?

'_It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fez's are cool.'_

She shuddered. The voice was from her mind. Like a memory of something long forgotten. It was a piece to the puzzle. The woman looked up at a noise to see a little boy come tripping down the grassy field from the house. "Hallo Ms. Song!"

Ms. Song? Was that her name? And who was the boy, and why did he know her?

"Mum wants to know what you have in your tea," the boy said, in one breath. "Are you alright? It looks like you feel in the lake. Would you like me to fetch a towel? Never travel without your towel, Miss, It's the most useful thing in the universe!"

In her thoughts, the woman decided that a sonic screwdriver was the most important thing in the universe, but then filed it in the same cabinet as the fez. Something was wrong. "A towel would be nice, ah-"

"Matt, Ms., Matt Cooper. Mum introduced you to me last night. I'm the man of the family around here."

"Thank you, Matt." The woman said. If she had lost her memories, how could she still speak? But then flashes of her childhood, her parents, her training, various different archeology digs, all reeled through her head. Archeologist. Song. River Song. That was her name. River Song.

So now what was that other name? The name so important that it made the woman, River, want to cry because she couldn't remember it.

"Right this way, Ms." Matt said, grinning. He loved it when his mum took in borders, because it meant that there would be better food than normal on the table. And this one in particular, Ms. River Song, why, she was awesome.

River followed Matt up to the house. The fez was clutched under her arm. She shivered as she walked, wind blowing across her soaking body.

Matt babbled on. "I'm glad you're here. Mum loves having someone to talk to. You'll like my sister when she gets back tomorrow. She's been a collage! We never get to go to collages from around here. Her name's Mercy an-"

'_Mercy!'_

This voice was begging. Begging. Begging. Another forbidden memory. She could almost picture the memory, a great big doom of mechanical equipment, and River herself, holding the very gun she held in her hand. The machine begged, implored, pleaded for mercy.

'_Mercy!'_

River shook her head and focused on Matt's conversation.

"-Mark's seventeen. He's got a farm down south of us, makes the best produce in the world. Or at least the planet," Matt frowned up at the sky. "You come from the stars, don't you Ms. Song?" The two of them had reached the cottage door now and Matt pushed it open, leading River inside.

"Yes Matt. I'm from a different planet." At least she thought so. It had to be the case.

"Matt," his mother scolded from the kitchen, "I told you not to badger her. I'm sorry, Ms. Song, he's got a very inquisitive mind."

"Those are the best kind," River said, smiling. She knew herself now, understood where she had come from, her family, and even why she was here on a lonely planet, doing some research for a possible dig site. The site of mythical Asgard.

The hostess, one Reba Cooper, River remembered, gave her a smile. "Matthew, show her the way, okay?"

The little boy bounced to the bottom of the stairs and grinned up at River. "Coming?" The young woman nodded and followed the sandy-haired boy up the stairs into the top floor.

"Here's the bathroom," Matt said, knocking on one of the doors. He had a perpetual grin on his face it seemed. It reminded River of someone. Some person so important that without him, she just wasn't River Song. Without him, she was, just, a person. But she didn't remember why!

"Thanks Matthew. Oh, and can you put this with my stuff?" River asked, handing him the red fez.

He grimaced and pushed the door open, revealing a tiled bathroom. "Sure! And, please, Ms. Song, my name's Matt."

River smiled at him. "Okay Matt." Stepping around him, she slipped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Grabbing a towel from the rack, she dried off her legs, rubbing the folds of the fabric through the towel. It dried instantly.

The genius of technology.

'_It doesn't do wood!'_

River knit her eyebrows in confusion. Wood. Why wouldn't It do wood? And what was It? She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing nerves. She needed her memory back. It was vital. There's was a giant piece of who she was, and it was just-lost.

Lost. Gone. Hidden. A whisper of the past.

'_Silence will fall!'_

River shuddered. She had to lean against the wall to support her quivering body. What was that voice? Worse than the cry for Mercy. Worse than anything she had ever remembered.

She closed her eyes and then snapped them open. She had just seen a face. Crazy brown hair. An oversized nose. Ears shy only of an elephant. Maniac grin. Deep, deep, deep, deep, old chocolate eyes half hidden beneath an exaggerated cowlick and heavy set eye sockets. A face that went with the name, the name that she couldn't remember.

What was the name!

Three light taps on the door caused River to turn her head and wipe her checks, out of reflex because she was not crying. Who would cry over cracked and broken memories?

The crack. The jagged, smile like cracked that had cracked her heart in two. But why? River wiped one tear away.

"Ms. Song," Matt's voice said, "Mum says that tea is whenever you're ready."

"Thanks for telling me," River said. She was half surprised that her voice didn't break. The sound of Matt's pitter-pattering feet sounded against the floor. River sighed. Her memory blackout didn't make sense. She decided as she stood and placed the heated towel back on the rack, and River was a scientist. It was her job to make sure that things made sense.

'_Sometimes, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles.'_ It was a male voice, and somehow River was sure it was a redhead. Why, she didn't know. '_That's what he told me. Months ago, when I came back to life and everything.'_ Most definitely a redhead.

River shuddered and went to the door. She opened it and stepped out into the hall. Slowly-one would call her methodical-she worked her way down to where Reba was taking the bread out of the oven and Matt setting three place settings. "May I help?"

Matt looked up eagerly, but his Mum said, "No Matt. River, there's a spring right out back with the best water in the galaxy. Could you fill a pitcher for us?"

"Sure," River grabbed one of the pitchers that Reba gestured too and headed for the back door. Something nagged at her memory, but, again, she didn't know what. That seemed to be a recurring issue today, didn't it? At the spring, she filled the pitcher, and headed back inside to were Matt and Reba were already sitting.

Taking the seat beside them, River was quiet as the two of them sat with folded hands. She was not familiar with their particular religion, but in all of time and space, she had learned to respect different opinions.

Time?

Like, in time travel?

Matt grabbed his fork and dove it into his pot roast. River took it as a sign that she could do the same. The three of them ate in almost perfect silence.

'_Silence will fall! Silence will fall!'_

And then the crack appeared in her head again.

River shuddered.

"Are you a peach?" Reba asked, putting her fork down worriedly.

The archeologist almost laughed. "You know, that word used to mean a fruit. And then it turned into peachy, which meant just fine. And now-" She forced an amused smile.

"You didn't answer my question," Reba pointed out.

Matt looked between his mum and the other woman, watching the talk, but food really was more important.

River paused. "I know."

"So you don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't know what It is," River retorted, truthful. She didn't know what was causing her memory to go haywire. She didn't understand why all of this was so important. And it just didn't make sense.

Reba looked politely confused. "You don't know what's bothering you?"

"If I communicated that," River said, "then yes." She almost wished that her friend Anita was here. Anita was good at making both sides see the light.

And the TARDIS exploded in River's face.

She jolted. Her chair skidded across the edge of the floor and fell over, dropping River into a huddled mass on the floor. She laid there, not bothering to move as the wooden bits of the chair poked into her back. She remembered the blue now.

The blue.

The inside was bigger than the outside.

The Doctor.

The TARDIS.

All of space and time.

Just waiting to be looked out. Explored. Fought. Conquered. River let out a sob. Something had caused her to forget. Forgot the Doctor. Forget the TARDIS. Forget their adventures together.

"Miss Song?"

There was no response but tears.

Matt's fork hung in midair, halfway to his open mouth

Reba pushed her chair away from the table and bent down by her boarder. "Miss Song?"

River jolted upright, tears still streaming down her checks. "Yes?"

"Is there anything you need?"

River wiped at the tears, but they didn't stop. "I forgot him."

"Whom?"

"The Doctor," River said, choking. "I first met him, on this planet, the first time that I came out on this dig. Years ago. And I went and forgot him. All for the-" River looked at Matt and cut off what she was about to say, "-stupid old universe."

'_Big. Bang. 2.'_

She could remember him saying the words now. His exhausted and pain filled voice tearing at her insides.

"Miss?" Reba was utterly confused.

River stood. She tossed Reba a few coins. "I'm sorry, but I'll be leaving early. There's something that I have to do." And she walked straight up her stairs to the room that she had stayed in last night, or when she had been here in the whole scheme of things. Time could be so confusing sometimes.

The room was smallish, with a bed in one corner. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her. She still couldn't remember the important name though. The Doctor, he existed, as a person, as a face, well, multiple faces, he was there, in her mind. But what in the name of Gallifrey was that name!

She froze. Gallifrey? That was a myth, a legend, even more so than Asgard. Gallifrey. His home planet. Right. River bounced the word through her head. But still, none of it made any sense. Why would she have forgotten it in the first place? The red fez was resting on the bed, right next to her bag.

She opened her bag and dug around inside of it until she pulled out a waterproof plastic bag that had two items inside of it. They felt strange, out of place, totally and entirely wrong. Because she couldn't remember one simple name.

It was foolish. Stupidly foolish. But her world was falling apart again because of one stupid name.

The first item was a blue book. A journal, the uneven edges of the paper sticking out at all lengths.

Her tears dried almost instantly.

Her memories flooded back in full. The Doctor. The TARDIS. The Doctor. Running. Her Doctor. Every day, every hour of her life from when they first met, he had been so important. The Doctor. And she had bloody forgotten him!

What on earth?

The second item was a ring. Just a ring. Silver, with no adornment of any kind, except that in a helix, wrapped around the ring, was writing. Gingerly, she picked up and stared at the ancient looking script. It had two names, joined together by a single symbol.

The script was ancient beyond everything else, it seemed impossible that anyone could read it, and yet River knew what it said. Her name, the symbol for joined, and the name in her head that she had been struggling to remember since she woke up. She knew the name now. And now she could recall it all, even that moment. The moment. The moment that practically defined River's own personal time and space.

_She sat on the bench in the TARDIS arboretum, watching butterflies from dozens of obscure planets flying about and decorating thousands of obscure flowers. _

_ "River?" The Doctor had asked from the door to the arboretum._

_ "Hm?"_

_ "I've got a surprise." He was grinning. Like a typical, cock-eyed maniac._

_ River rose and faced him, her eyes raised in a skeptical fashion that she knew he, well, adored. "Really? Because most of your surprises end up with me saving you from who-knows-what and then running from one end of the galaxy to the other."_

_ "Uh, yup!"_

_ She just rolled her eyes. Honestly. But she followed him anyway. He grabbed her hand and led her through the hallways of the TARDIS. Not that River needed any direction, this was her home now, much more so than any place around the school or her home planet or her birth parents._

_ They reached the engine room, and then the Doctor opened the door. "The Medusa Cascade."_

_ River gasped. She stuck her head out the open door, leaning out into space. It would be very unlike the Doctor to forget to add a oxygen bubble, but then he might have just as a prank. She pulled her head back it. "It's gorgeous."_

_ "Yeah," he slipped an arm around her waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Reminds me a bit of the colors on Gallifrey, actually. It used to be just a second out of sync with the universe. Just a second, but that lingering residual energy remains."_

_ "Don't go techno," River said, quietly._

_ The Doctor ignored her and sped on about fifty miles per hour. River tuned him out until he said, "It's the closest thing left to the Untempered Schism."_

_ River stiffened. When he talked about Gallifrey, it was always sad, lonely. She had leaned farther into him, keeping her mouth shut._

_ "Back home, it was tradition. For initiates, and-"_

_ The woman looked up at him expectantly, and, well, his nervous energy must be effecting her, because she was nervous. In multiple senses of the word._

_ "And-"_

_ River blinked._

_ The Doctor blinked._

_ And the TARDIS decided that they were taking too long. She shifted, just a bit, and made a noise loud enough to get their attention. Both River and the Doctor turned and stared into the Heart of the TARDIS._

_ White light surrounded them, filling the room and then pouring out into the Medusa Cascade, adding another swirl to the vibrant shade of colors. And then the TARDIS closed, leaving two very shocked time travelers frozen in shock._

_ "That was a first," River said, when she regained her breath._

_ The Doctor looked down at her, a tear dripping down one cheek. Their eyes met. He swallowed. "River Song. Will you marry me?"_

_ She glanced at the TARDIS consul, and then back into his eyes. "Yes."_

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned the ring between her fingers. How could she not have remember that? River slid the ring down her left ring finger and cried harder. Three months-well, it's a TIME machine, estimates are allowed-later, they had gone back to 21st century Earth and gotten married by a tradition that both of them accepted and loved.

River cried.

She had forgotten it and the guilt hung in a cloud over her head. Not that he'd mind, that much, it was only for a day or too. But still. River let the tears run in frustration. She could remember the outcome of their last adventure.

Rory, the Nestine Duplicate centurion. Amy Pond. The Dalek. The Dalek that begged for mercy. The Pandorica. The Doctor was trapped on the other side of the cracks and River was helpless to help him.

She kissed the silver band on her finger and took measured breaths. Carefully, she opened the journal. For almost ten seconds, her brain couldn't process what she was seeing. It was blank. The Doctor had truly never existed. She curled into a ball on the bed, ring on her finger and blank journal clutched to her chest.

And she cried like she had never cried before.

And then she worked her way back to 21st century Earth, Ledworth, because while River Song had no chance in saying the Doctor, one Amelia Pond did.

It took her a few seconds to get nausea and then she stood, looking around. She tapped her watch. Earth. 2010. Amy Pond's time. And, oh, that was a church. And people were obviously preparing for a wedding. Excellent timing.

River sunk into the shadows, formulating her plan. She did admit, that this was a nice church, nice grounds, pretty and laid back. For an hour, River waited for her target to show up, and she relived some of her memories of the Doctor.

The first time they met, at Asgard.

The sheer number of times he had saved her life, and the whole universe, all of reality.

The stories he told of Amy, Rory, Rose, and the rest of his companions.

The sadness in his voice when he spoke of Gallifrey and the Time Lords.

But then Rory Williams showed up. River walked from the shadows and went inside the church, the blank diary still clutched in her hands. "'Cuse me, Mister Williams?"

Rory turned to look at her. "Um, yes?"

River handed him the diary. "I work at this church. It's been my tradition to give something to the bride in every wedding. Could you please pass this on to your bride-to-be?"

"Uh, sure." He said. Oh, Rory. Gullible. Loyal. Plastic. Brave. Rory.

"Thank you," River said. She turned and walked out the door. And prepared for another couple of hours of waiting. She watched the wedding from a distance, waiting and waiting for her time to make sure that Amy saw her. The girl was brilliant, and the Doctor had said all she needed was a spark. A spark to get the imaginary juices going.

Two hours later, River watched the reception through the big, sprawling glass windows. She saw Rory hand Amy the blue diary, and then she started walking. With her eyes never leaving Amy, she kept walking, only winking once when Amy looked at her.

Now or never.

Either it worked, or it didn't work.

And she saw Amy cry.

Either it worked, or it didn't work.

From inside, she could hear the voices. She could hear Amy started to talk, scream almost, yelling for her imaginary friend. And she just had to smile. Good old Amelia Pond.

When she heard the whirring of the TARDIS, the most magnificent spaceship in the universe, River's heartbeat sped up to a most certainly unhealthy pace. Amy had done it. She had brought the Doctor back. River had to fight off more tears, but this time they were tears of joy.

Her Doctor was back.

It was after the wedding reception. River had waited, because she knew that she'd already had her turn, and that the Doctor would get his soon enough. She slipped the ring off-because of one of the Doctor's rules-placed it in her bag and threw the bag over her shoulder. She stepped out from behind the bushes.

The Doctor was opening the door to his TARDIS.

"Did you dance?" River asked, she added a laugh. "Well, you always dance a weddings."

"You tell me." He turned and grinned at her.

"Spoilers." She smirked at the Doctor.

He handed her the blue diary and-after she tucked it under her arm-the vortex manipulator. She started attaching the manipulator to her wrist and started checking the settings. "Your writing is back. But I didn't peak."

"Thank you," River said.

"Are you married, River?" The Doctor asked, grinning.

At least he wasn't wearing a fez right here and now. Coyly, River smiled, "Are you asking?"

"Yes."

"Yes," River said, grinning at how easily she could confuse him. But as she looked up into his smiling, confused face, River knew again why she hung around. She loved him, that's why.

"No, hang on, did you think I was asking you marry me or asking if you were married."

"Yes."

"No, but was that yes, or yes."

"Yes," River said again, bouncing up an down on the inside, while outwardly she was cool and collected and driving her Doctor half insane. Torture was just an incredible-no, brilliant-way to flirt.

"River. Who are you?" He asked.

"You're going find out very soon," River said. And she would reveal just a smidgeon of the truth. "And I'm sorry, but that's when everything changes." She pressed a few of the buttons on the manipulator and jumped to her house. Well, technically, she should be in prison during this time of her time stream, but the Stormcage was awful enough once in a life time. And she'd probably end up back there at some point in time.

She dropped the diary and everything else-except one thing-on the bed. It had taken her almost three weeks to work her way from 51st century Asgard to the right time period on Earth. Three weeks of utter desolation. Three weeks with out the greatest man in the universe. A slow smile spread across her face. She still had the fez.

Bouncing on her heals, she raced down the stairs and out into her living room, where the Doctor-a different face, sure, but still him-sat on a couch, reading through a stack of books about a mile high. The living room windows were open wide, curtains blowing.

He looked up at her and grinned.

River chucked the fez at him. "I HATE you!" He knew what she meant.

The Doctor smirked and grabbed the red fez. "What did I do this time?"

"How often have you worn a fez!" River said, stalking across the room to face him.

His smirk only widened. Clutching the fez to his chest, the Doctor said, "I love fezes. Fezes are cool."

"How'd I get that anyway?" River asked, pointing at the fez.

"Sometimes, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles-"

"No, really." The woman snorted. She pushed maybe ten dozen books from the couch and sat down beside the Doctor. "I've heard what you told Rory. HOW did I get the fez?"

He smirked.

River slapped him on the arm. "So were are we going now?"

"You pick," The Doctor grabbed one of his books and stuck it in front of his nose, flipping through the pages at ninety miles an hour.

She grabbed the book from him and threw it across the room. "You just trapped yourself on the other side of the cracks. I want to actually SEE you."

"Talk to the hand," He stated, a laugh in his voice.

"You are-"

"I know." He reached out and put an arm around her shoulder.

She sighed. "Some place on Earth. Ancient times."

The Doctor perked up, "Middle east? We can go to where people actually wore fezes."

"No!" River said, loudly. "What about the Native Americans. I've always wanted to meet them."

"Such an archeologist." The Doctor looked at his watch. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Works with me."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each others company. She felt the Doctor relaxing, and then River struck. She grabbed the fez and flung it out the window. "I don't have a gun on me."

"River," He said with a shake of his hand. "You are-"

"I know," River muttered, softly. She leaned up and kissed him, cutting off any reply.


End file.
